


Slow Burn

by Kangofu_CB



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping Trip From Hell, I rearranged these tags so that kid fic and sexytimes weren't next to each other, Kid Fic, M/M, Sexytimes, birthday gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/pseuds/Kangofu_CB
Summary: Duo and Trowa volunteer to chaperone a scout camping trip, and it is exactly the sort of fiasco you'd imagine.Luckily, they find a way to pass the time together.





	Slow Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amberly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/gifts).



> A very happy (and nearly belated BUT I MADE IT) birthday to Amberly, a sweet friend who is always encouraging of my work and a genuinely lovely human being. Here's your OTP, a kid fic, and some camping shenanigans, I hope you enjoy! <3 <3 <3
> 
> No kids were harmed in the making of this fic.

Duo stared up at the slats of the bunk above him in consternation.  

 

He was beginning to regret this decision.

 

That seemed to be a common running theme in his life, actually.

 

Still, this could be chalked up as one of his worst ideas to date.  When Riley - his beautiful, adorable, stubborn, pig headed eight year old child - had decided she wanted to sign up for Scouts, Duo had cautiously embraced the idea.  He hadn’t been a Scout, or had opportunity for much of anything like it, but it seemed like a thing that was done. But when he’d suggested Girl Scouts, you’d have thought he’d suggested she boil bunnies.  

 

Luke, apparently, was signing up for some Scouting thing and Riley wanted to be in Luke’s troop.

 

Duo had tried explaining about Boy Scouts versus Girl Scouts and that, ladies and gentlemen, had been the beginning of the end. 

 

Riley and Luke had been nearly inseparable from their first fight on the playground, their first week in kindergarten, three years ago.  Luke who kept frogs in his pockets, and had a seemingly-endless rotation of rescue puppies living in his house, and had convinced Riley he could talk to snakes.

 

They’d hissed at each other for weeks.

 

Not, Duo thought with a grimace, that Riley was entirely without fault in that relationship.  Riley who eschewed all things pink and whose dark, curling hair was forever straying out of whatever fancy braid or ponytail he’d painstakingly taught himself on YouTube, who had  _ opinions _ on anything and everything and wasn’t afraid to let you know about it.

 

He sighed.

 

Luke’s guardian - his uncle, Trowa - had raised an eyebrow at Duo when he’d skulked his way into the mixed scouts Q&A session ten minutes late, and Duo had shrugged sheepishly while trying (and failing) to go unnoticed as he made his way across the room to stand next to the taller man.  

 

The mixed scouting meeting was met with, well, mixed reviews.  The parents were understandably nervous. 

 

The first several weeks had gone splendidly, however, with a healthy mix of activities and skills, uniforms and lessons.  And fundraisers.

 

Then the camping trip had been announced, along with a call for ‘parent scout leaders’ to assist.

 

AKA chaperones.

 

Duo had signed up immediately.

 

Not because he didn’t trust kids, but because he didn’t trust  _ anyone _ .  

 

He hadn’t known that Trowa was even going until the chaperone lists had been emailed out, each chaperone assigned a small group of scouts to ‘assist’ to and from activities, and ensure they went to bed - and stayed there - at the appropriate time.

  
Neither Riley nor Luke was in his or Trowa’s small group of rowdy kids aged 7-11 which was both a disappointment and a relief.  They were, at least, together in another parent’s group. That was enough for Duo. 

 

Thursday night had been fine.  Fun, even. 

 

They’d been instructed to turn up at the campgrounds at an appointed time where they’d be assigned lodging and groups, and then children would be deposited later.   Duo had done as he was told, following the signs to the office and then to parking, and the map to his lodging, which turned out to be a sort of small cabin set a few feet apart from other, similar cabins that formed a semi-circle around a sprawling field and play area.  There was a playground, a firepit, and a large open grassy area, perfect for games of tag or impromptu soccer matches. The cabins even had porch swings.

 

Things were looking up.

 

Duo had made his way inside, finding two smaller bedrooms, a living area and kitchenette.  The bedroom to the left had a set of bunk beds and an attached bath with shower. The bedroom to the right had a single bed, similar attached bath, and a Trowa whose face looked like a storm rolling in off the sea. He’d given the green-eyed man a cautious hello and retreated, dumping his duffle bag on the larger bottom bunk, where at least he could stretch out on the full-sized mattress.  

 

He almost felt sorry for the sucker taking the top bunk, except for the fact that he was sharing a room.

 

On the other hand, he’d expected to share a tent, so this was still an improvement. 

 

Staying in the cabin only long enough to ensure there was a coffee maker and coffee for the next day, Duo had shot one more concerned glance towards Trowa’s closed door, then headed back across the campgrounds to the welcome center, where busloads of overly-excited children would be arriving imminently.  Trowa had turned up not long after him, sullen but cooperative, as they’d ushered the children off the bus and into the dining hall, clapping and singing welcome songs, fed them all dinner, herded them back into the welcome center for an explanation of Rules and Expectations While You’re Here, a craft activity (paper lanterns - handy), and introductions of Camp Counselors (aka Parent Leaders, aka chaperones, aka everyone making fools of themselves - including Duo and excepting Trowa), and then  _ more _ shuffling of children - this time to bed.

 

Duo had been exhausted but upbeat, fairly confident he could do a weekend of this.

 

He’d changed his mind at approximately 0600 hours Friday morning, when the Scout Leader, Maria, had come, knocking loudly and being inordinately cheerful, to wake them up.  A morning person, he was not. He was, however, blessedly roomate free, because Rick, who was supposed to be in the cabin with him and Trowa, had begged off at the last minute with the flu. So he was free to do all the cursing and muttering under his breath that he liked as he padded to the bathroom.

 

When he came back out a little while later, minty fresh and hair brushed, in jeans and a flannel shirt, Trowa had, at least, started the coffee.

 

By the time he dragged himself back to the cabin, thirteen hours later, Duo had decided that next year,  _ he _ was going to have the flu at the last minute.

 

Children were awful, exhausting creatures, and he was frankly amazed that the human race had survived past the first generation.  

 

It was knowledge he’d always vaguely sort of had - he did  _ have _ a child after all - but he’d generally treated Riley like a miniature adult, once she could talk and use the toilet, and in return he got a mostly reasonable human.  Or at least, Riley always had a  _ reason _ for the things she did, however ill-thought-out it was.

 

Other people’s children, however, were a nightmare. An endless chorus of  _ I wants _ and  _ She didn’t _ and  _ He said _ and kicking and pinching and tormenting one another, and whenever he asked them  _ why _ they always had the same response.

 

_ I dunno _ .

 

It was infuriating.  And exhausting. 

 

Duo wanted a drink.

 

He sat up on the edge of his bed, staring at his duffle bag instead of the wooden slats of the bed.

 

He could  _ have _ a drink, actually.  There was a no-alcohol policy at camp, but Duo was.... Well he was not above totally ignoring that edict if it suited him, and he’d brought something for a nightcap with him.  It wasn’t like anyone had searched his bag. Still.

 

He glanced pensively at the closed door of his room.

 

Trowa was in the other room, probably just as infuriated and exhausted as Duo was, and he might-

 

Duo hummed to himself.

 

He and Trowa weren’t  _ friends _ , for all that their children were practically joined at the hip.  They were something more than acquaintances though. They’d drifted together first at PTA meetings and community events due to a bit of common ground - both of them being single dads (though Trowa, Duo learned from Luke almost immediately, was an  _ uncle _ , not his  _ dad _ , but he was raising the boy, who looked like a miniature version of the man himself, and Duo figured that counted), and then in self-preservation, as the single moms descended  _ en masse _ on them once word got out that they were both employed and unattached. 

 

Duo hadn’t caught on all that quickly, at first.  He was an electrician by trade, and he was currently taking online classes to get his electrical engineering degree.  So when various women in the neighborhood asked him to give their breaker boxes or their plugs or their lights a look, always with wringing hands and complaints of how they just didn’t  _ know _ anything about all that electrical stuff, Duo had been happy to help.

 

It wasn’t until Trowa - who frequently checked car seat securements for the same single moms pestering Duo about their light switches - snorted a laugh after Duo mentioned that he’d been to the same woman’s house four times just in the last  _ month _ to look at faulty wiring that he couldn’t find any problems with, that Duo had stopped to wonder why there were so many electrical issues in their relatively recent subdivision.  Duo had looked at the tall man in bewilderment, and Trowa had sort of smirked and said something about how he’d stopped checking smoke detectors for that very reason.

 

“Never get lured into the house, Duo.”  He’d said, green eyes sparkling with mirth.

 

Which was when Duo finally got a clue.  He stopped checking wiring problems after that.

 

He wasn’t sure about Trowa, but the last thing Duo was interested in was  _ women _ .  

 

His one and only experience with the opposite sex had resulted in Riley - not a regret by any stretch, but certainly not planned - and had been just enough to assure him that his tastes ran in other directions. 

 

More masculine directions.

 

And Trowa was.  Well. He was a firefighter and he kept in great shape and he sometimes ran and washed his car shirtless and Duo was not above a bit of ogling.  

 

He sighed, annoyed at himself and the direction of his thoughts, before giving an unseen shrug and snagging the water bottle he’d used to smuggle vodka on the trip and left the bedroom, headed towards the kitchen.  Duo rattled around in the fridge for a few minutes trying to decide what paired best with rebottled vodka. There was orange juice, always good with Russia’s finest, and Sprite, which was an acceptable, if less popular, alternative.

 

In the end, he decided on the Sprite, only because he wanted to be able to have real juice in the morning, instead of whatever it was they were serving with breakfast in the dining hall.  

 

Trowa had parked himself on the couch, already in pajamas, his socked feet propped on the coffee table with a book in hand, but he looked up at Duo’s abrupt entrance and trek to the small kitchen area.

 

“Are you,” Trowa spoke up, sounding bewildered, “watering down your soda?”

 

Duo snorted.

 

“Not hardly.  I’m having a nightcap.”  Duo looked up from where he’d poured a solid third of the bottle into a glass of Sprite and ice and met Trowa’s amused green eyes.  “You want one?”

 

The other man quirked a grin before setting his book aside.  “Sure, what do you have?”

 

Duo waggled the water bottle enticingly.  “Vodka. Nothing special, but not the worst, either.”

 

Trowa made a motion with his hand that Duo interpreted as ‘bring me one’ and proceeded to ‘water down’ another plastic cup of Sprite for the tall firefighter.  His own bare feet slapped against the cold floor tiles - the flooring in the entire cabin was nothing but utilitarian beige tiles, the better to clean with, he supposed - as he made his way into the living room and handed off the cup, tucking himself into an armchair a couple of feet away.

 

Duo took a sip and grimaced.  

 

He’d been a bit heavy-handed with the vodka.

 

Ah well, it would even out in the end.  He took another drink, swallowing convulsively. 

 

Next to him, Trowa choked on his drink, coughing.  “How much damn vodka did you think it needed, Duo?”

 

“A lot.” He paused to take another swallow. “I found marshmallow and chocolate mashed in my hair.” 

 

It had taken a solid twenty minutes of picking and scrubbing in the shower to get it out of his hair. 

 

Trowa grimaced in sympathy, and then grimaced again after he took another sip of his own cocktail. “I had to climb a tree to retrieve an overly-ambitious seven year old who managed to get up, but couldn’t figure out how to get back down.”

 

Duo barked a laugh. “Why did we agree to do this again?”

 

Rolling his eyes Trowa took another swallow of his drink, though he swallowed it smoothly and didn’t choke, Duo watching the line of his throat as he did so.

 

“Well, I thought we were going  _ camping _ ,” the other man said scornfully, “not whatever this is.”

 

“Is that why you were so bent out of shape this afternoon?” Duo laughed again.  “Can you even imagine some of these kids in tents in the dark. Jesus.”

 

Trowa half shrugged but Duo could see him conceding the point.  During the campfire time, no less than ten children had freaked out about June bugs.  Tents would not have gone well. 

 

“Luke and Riley would have been fine.” Trowa offered, still sipping his drink.

 

That was true, Duo thought, considering they were the kids who liked animals and exploring and nature, and were perpetually mud-stained. Riley and Luke would probably _ love _ camping.

 

“Maybe we should take them,” Duo mused thoughtfully.

 

Trowa looked him in mild surprise, but then he grinned.  “Yeah, that would be nice.”

 

They sat in silence for a long time after that, nursing their drinks and listening to the faint sounds of nature outside.

 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Duo said, suddenly.  He’d nearly finished his drink and was giving serious consideration to a second, but the world had gone slightly fuzzy at the edges and that probably meant he didn’t need the remaining vodka.  Also it was all the way in the kitchen, and he was perfectly comfortable in his chair.

 

“Sure,” Trowa shrugged loosely, his own glass empty and book abandoned.

 

“Where’re Luke’s parents?”

 

Trowa blinked at him.  “Oh. I thought you knew.  It’s not a secret, I assumed Luke told everyone.  My sister is a ballerina.” Trowa paused to roll his eyes.  “Anyway, she travels all the time with the company to perform and even when he was a baby it was impossible. Then he got old enough for preschool and Cathy… well, I told her that she should let him come live with me where he’d have more stability.  He’s been with me since he was two. Cathy comes to visit once or twice a year, maybe.”

 

Duo noticed that he didn’t mention anything about a father, and Duo had at least enough sense left not to ask about that.

 

“What about you?” Trowa asked into the awkward silence, and Duo blinked at him in confusion.

 

Duo had grown up in a Catholic orphanage but how-

 

Oh.

 

“Riley’s mom you mean?” he checked, just to be sure, and Trowa nodded.  “It was a one-time thing in college, and she decided being a mom wasn’t really for her, so I took an electrician apprenticeship and a baby.  Haven’t seen her since the day they got out of the hospital.”

 

Duo realized he sounded bitter, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

 

That second drink was looking better and better.

 

“She’s a great kid,” Trowa offered, and Duo turned to smile at him.

 

“Yeah? Yeah, she is.  Luke, too. You’ve done a great job with him.  Except for the frogs, maybe.”

 

Duo had discovered more frogs in his house than he cared to admit, since Luke had started coming over to spend his free time with Riley.  Once, he’d even found a cup of tadpoles on her windowsill, which he’d forced her to release back into the community pond, much to her disgruntlement.

 

“They tried to raise a frog colony, once, you know?” he informed Trowa, matter-of-factly.

 

Trowa burst out laughing, and Duo couldn’t help but stare at the way it transformed the other man’s face, his eyes crinkling and his head thrown back.  The taller man had always been attractive in that unattainable, better-to-never-let-him-know sort of way. Duo kept to himself, the single father of a young girl, and no ready explanation for her questions if she asked, so dates were few and far between.  In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on one, and he  _ certainly  _ couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent the night with anyone.  Now, here was Trowa, his extremely sexy neighbor, wearing pajamas, all casual and relaxed, and laughing at his lame jokes, and Duo had the sudden realization that he was in way too deep for his daughter’s best friend’s uncle.  

 

Fuck.

 

He stood abruptly, gathering their glasses and taking them to the kitchen.  When he came back, Trowa was rising from the sofa to stretch, and Duo swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as the other man’s t-shirt inched above the waist of his cotton pants, revealing firm abs and tanned skin.

 

“I, ah, think it’s about time I headed to bed,” Duo said, his tongue thick in his mouth, though that could probably be written off to the alcohol.  

 

Trowa took a few steps towards him, an odd look on his face, and he opened his mouth to speak.

 

And shut it again, a little wrinkle between his brows, before he nodded.  “Me too, I think. I’m pretty sure they’re planning to wake us up even earlier tomorrow.”

 

Duo groaned as he turned to the side of the cabin his room was located on.  He turned, at the threshold, to find Trowa had done the same, and they were looking at each other across the room in weighted silence.

 

“Good night,” he offered, pausing at the doorway.

 

“Sleep well,” Trowa said in response and, after another moment, disappeared into his own room with the slight click of the door shutting.

 

Duo kicked his own door shut as he flopped down onto the mattress and groaned into the pillow.

 

He was so fucked. 

 

\--

 

“Girls?” Riley said, scornfully, “my dad doesn’t like  _ girls _ .”

 

Duo stood stock-still, leaning over the craft table where he was helping another child assemble a birdfeeder.  To him it seemed the entire room fell silent, except he could still vaguely hear the general hubbub of the room, the kids chatting amongst themselves. 

 

Still.  It felt like all eyes were on him, Riley’s voice ringing out above the others.

 

Great, he thought, outed by an 8 year old.  Duo closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resolutely focusing on the popsicle sticks that Dylan was judiciously glueing together.

 

The day had started off relatively well, despite the pre-dawn wake up call and the slight headache behind his eyes from the vodka he’d consumed the night before.  There had been coffee and juice in the cabin, and breakfast had consisted of scrambled eggs and sausage and toast, which beat the sugary mess of yesterday’s pancakes by about a mile.  Then they’d done archery lessons outside and now they were having craft time before lunch, and Duo was feeling just about back to normal.

 

Or had been, until Riley’s impromptu announcement.

 

This was his own fault, for years of telling Riley he didn’t need a woman in his life, that he wasn’t interested and was perfectly happy to just be her dad.  And secretly dating on nights when she was at friends’ houses and sleepovers, and never managing anything even resembling a consistent relationship that he  _ had _ to tell her about, and therefore didn’t.

 

“‘Cept me,” she added, thoughtfully.

 

_ Jesus Christ. _

 

“Well, what about boys?” Luke added, oh-so-helpfully, as Duo quietly tried to melt into the floorboards.

 

“I dunno,” Riley answered, “maybe I should ask.”

 

_ Please, for the love of God, don’t ask. _

 

Their conversation was, blessedly, interrupted by sudden shrieking at the nearby table, where children were leaping from their chairs in apparent terror.  Duo started in that direction, alarmed, but Trowa swooped in before he could get there, reaching for something in the middle of the table.

 

“Just a garden snake,” he called, “I’ll put it outside.”

 

That was suspiciously convenient.  Duo eyed him as he slipped out of the side door to, presumably, set the snake free, and came back in less than a minute later.  Trowa herded all the wayward children back to their project, and for the next twenty minutes, the craft continued uninterrupted and, thankfully, without further discussion of who Duo did or didn’t like. 

 

When they finally broke up for lunch, Duo quickly guided his group to the dining hall and deposited them in line, before ducking out the back door to lean against the building and gulp deep lungfuls of air. 

 

Duo wasn’t exactly in the closet, but he also wasn’t exactly open about his sexuality.  He was more than aware of the social stigma surrounding gay people parenting and he’d taken pains to ensure no one ever had cause to question his life choices.

 

This was probably the worst possible way he could think of for people to find out his personal business.  

 

At an overnight camp.  

 

_ Fuck. _

 

The door he’d snuck out of swung open with a blast of frigid air from inside the dining hall, and Duo turned to see who had followed him.  He was surprised to meet the concerned green eyes of his temporary roommate.

 

“You ok?” the other man asked quietly, letting the door fall shut behind him.

 

“Yeah.”  Duo scrubbed his palms against his jeans and tucked his fingers into his pockets.  “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

 

Trowa’s eyes flicked to watch his nervous motions, and Duo felt his defenses rise again, but the other man grinned in amusement. 

 

“For checking on you? Or for the snake?”

 

Caught off guard, Duo laughed out loud.  “I wondered about that!”

 

“Am I that transparent?”

 

No, Duo thought, Trowa wasn’t transparent  _ at all _ .  Still, it was a relief that the other man had come out to check on him, was concerned about his well being, and wasn’t awkwardly avoiding him, especially since they had one more night to share a cabin. 

 

“Well you do have the child who keeps frogs in his pocket,” Duo joked, smiling in response. “It’s hardly surprising that you’d have a reptile handy.”

 

Trowa smiled wider.  “Is that a snake in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

 

Duo laughed again, the last of his tension bleeding away at the humor.  

 

Whatever the other parents might think, Trowa, at least, wasn’t avoiding him or upset.  

 

“Are you ready to come back inside and eat?”

 

Duo snorted.  Lunch was sloppy joes and baked beans, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the menu.  “I’m really not all that hungry, but yeah, I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

Trowa looked him over searchingly and, finding whatever he was looking for, offered Duo another small smile before reaching out and clapping him on the shoulder, squeezing slightly.  “See you in the zoo,” he joked before turning to head back into the dining hall.

 

When he was gone, Duo sagged against the wall in a mixture of relief and something he couldn’t quite name.

 

Trowa Barton was getting to be a serious problem for his mental faculties.

 

*

 

Duo was disgusting.

 

He was absolutely filthy and he could  _ feel _ mud squishing between his toes and Riley had  _ laughed _ at him and he was entirely disgruntled as he squelched his way back to the cabin.

 

It was absolutely no consolation that Trowa was equally dirty and squelching along right beside him.

 

After lunch Duo had remained tense and agitated, waiting for someone, anyone, to say something to him or ask him any questions, but no one did.  None of the other parents seemed to notice or care about the little bomb Riley had dropped during craft time, and the remaining afternoon had been so busy as to prevent Duo from doing much thinking about it.  They’d done a nature walk, a scavenger hunt, and then there had been  _ canoeing _ .  

 

Which is how Duo and Trowa had ended up looking like Swamp Thing.

 

The camp counselors had sorted everyone into pairs, putting smaller children with adults and the larger children together, so that paddling would be equitably shared and everyone would be able to keep up, and they’d gotten about halfway down the lake when one of the canoes had overturned, dumping a pair of children out into the water.

 

Both Duo and Trowa had reacted without thought, jumping out of their own canoes to help.  It had been a complete mess, the upside-down canoe almost impossible to turn back upright, both children crying and flailing in their life jackets in the frigid, muddy water, and Trowa and Duo’s canoeing partners laughing uproariously at the men who were rapidly getting slimy and exhausted.

 

Finally,  _ finally _ , the unlucky children had been returned to their boat, both Duo and Trowa hefting as they treaded water to lever them into the bright orange aluminum, and then neither of them had been able to get back into their  _ own _ canoes for fear of dumping yet more children in the water and had eventually simply swam back to shore.

 

Maria had taken one look at the bedraggled pair of them and declared movie night, sending Duo and Trowa back to their cabin to shower and not return.

 

Duo couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved.

 

When they got to the door of the cabin, Duo stopped.

 

He didn’t, absolutely did  _ not _ , want to traipse into the little house and the bedroom dragging pond water he’d have to clean up, and he was dripping mud.  He glanced at Trowa out of the corner of his eye, and saw the other man frowning at the door, clearly thinking the same thing as Duo.  There was a very brief pause, and then Trowa dragged his shirt up and over his head, dropping it with a wet-sounding slap to the concrete porch.

 

“I’ll grab a towel and bring it out for your hair?” he offered, even as he began unsnapping the button on his jeans.

 

Duo swallowed hard, jerking his eyes away from where dexterous fingers were working at the brass button, clearly hindered by the sodden denim.

 

“Yeah, yeah that’s- thanks.” Duo answered, his tongue thick in his mouth.  Trowa was right, of course, even if Duo stripped down completely naked his hair was still going to drip water, despite that he’d wrung it out on the way over, several times.

 

Trowa toed his sneakers off, nudging them to the side, and then shoved his jeans down and over his hips, pulling socks off along with the mud-streaked material and then he was just standing there in sinfully tight black briefs, long legs tapering down and Duo-

 

Duo jerked his eyes back to the door of the cabin and reached for the hem of his own shirt, dropping the sweatshirt he’d started the morning out in, as he tugged at the t-shirt he’d worn underneath.  He didn’t reach for his jeans, because he needed several moments of deep breathing and the bite of the breeze against his damp skin to cool the desire that was going to be imminently obvious when his pants came off.

 

Luckily, Trowa chose that moment to go inside, his feet slapping against the tile and Duo took several deep breaths and thought of Betty White while he waited, arms crossed over his chest and braid dripping cold water down his back.

 

Trowa came back just as Duo was wrestling his own jeans off, and Duo looked up from where he’d bent down to tug them off at the angles to find Trowa standing in the doorway, in the same black briefs which, Duo could  _ clearly _ see, were also soaking wet and molded to Trowa’s body and holy fuck.

 

Holy fucking fuck.

 

Duo nearly tripped over his own pants staring at the outline of Trowa’s cock in his pants, and he closed his eyes, the image now burned into his retinas.

 

“Duo?” There was a question in his voice and Duo opened his eyes again to see Trowa holding a towel out - his posture clearly indicating he’d been holding it there for a while but Duo had been too busy staring at his package to notice.  Duo felt his face go up in flames, embarrassment crawling up his chest to his ears, and he was sure it looked great under all the grime from the pond. He took the towel without a word, tucking it under his arm as he went back to trying to yank the godforsaken jeans off his legs.

 

When they finally came free, Duo nearly fell over, and Trowa, who was  _ still standing there why was he still standing there? _ reached out to steady him, warm hand gripping Duo’s chilled skin around his bicep.

 

“Need a hand?” Trowa smirked down at him and Duo felt his mouth working but no sound came out.

 

“With my pants?” he finally blurted, and felt his face heat up even more.  God he was so fucking stupid.

 

Trowa shrugged, releasing Duo to cross his arms over his chest and lean against the doorframe, as casual as anything, while Duo shivered on the porch in his boxer-briefs and soaking wet socks.  “With anything.”

 

Duo gaped at him.

 

“Your hair is still dripping.” Trowa reminded him, as Duo continued to stare, wide-eyed with confusion.

 

“Shit.”  Duo stripped his socks off and wrapped the towel around his braid, squeezing muddy water out into the clean white cotton.  Gross. He took a moment, before the towel got too soaked, to give his feet a quick wipe, and then stepped into the cabin, shutting the door behind him, with the towel wrapped around his hair to absorb water.

 

Trowa shifted to let Duo pass and close the door, but he didn’t move far, and when Duo turned, the other man was still very much in his personal space, Duo practically backed into the corner, both of them with rivulets of water running down their legs.  Trowa was looking him over, something hot behind his eyes, and Duo shivered. He’d never looked at Duo quite like this before, and Duo liked it. A lot.

 

Too much.

 

Duo took a small step to the side, opened his mouth to make an excuse about the shower, but Trowa stepped forward, until they were almost touching, and leaned-

 

Trowa Barton was going to kiss him, Duo realized, belatedly, and he made a small sound of surprise just as the other man’s mouth covered his, angling his face so their noses didn’t bump.  Duo melted into the kiss, reaching up to wrap his arms around Trowa’s neck while the other man’s hands came around his back to pull him closer. Duo moaned as he was pulled flush against the other man, his cock swelling in response.

 

_ Jesus fuck, where had this been all these years? _

 

He leaned back to say as much. 

 

“Not that I’m complaining, but where did this come from?”

 

Trowa’s smile was self-deprecating.  “I thought you were straight,” he admitted, with another little shrug, “I didn’t want to make you feel awkward, so I kept my distance.”

 

That explained so much, but Duo couldn’t bring himself to waste any time thinking about it at the moment.  He tugged the other man back down to kiss him again, and then they were stumbling further into the cabin, towards Trowa’s room, hands roaming as they went.  

 

Duo pulled back for air as Trowa kicked the bedroom door shut and eyed the other man.  He wanted, he  _ needed, _ to have his mouth all over the planes of muscle and tanned skin, but both of them were still gritty with dirt and damp with pond water.

 

“Shower?” he said, and if he sounded breathless, well, who could blame him?

 

Trowa responded by dragging Duo into another kiss, mouth hot and tongues dueling, even as he navigated them into the bathroom and wrenched the knobs in the shower on.  His hands delved into the back of Duo’s boxer-briefs to squeeze his ass, and Duo moaned, reaching down to return the favor, and more, to slide his hands over the bulge in the front of Trowa’s briefs and squeeze, feeling Trowa harden further.

 

Trowa slid Duo’s underwear over his hips, letting them fall, and then stripped his own off, never taking his mouth off of Duo’s and suddenly Duo was gripping hot, hard skin, no barrier between his hands and Trowa’s cock and he looked down, to watch his hand slide over smooth skin as Trowa groaned.

 

“I want to suck your dick,” Duo said, matter-of-factly, eyes fixed on the slip-slide of his fingers and the bead of precome forming at the head.  

 

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Trowa moaned, and then he pulled both of them under the hot spray of the shower, rinsing grey, brackish water down the drain.  He reached for a bar of soap, lathering his hands and passing it to Duo, who released his prize only out of necessity, because the sooner he could get  _ clean _ the sooner he could get his mouth on Trowa’s body, and that was a goal worth working towards.

 

The taller man reached for him, slippery, soap-covered hands sliding over Duo’s body and it felt good to be getting clean and even better for Trowa to be the one doing the scrubbing.  Duo reached out in return, sliding his own frothy hands over Trowa’s neck and shoulders, behind his ears and down his back.

 

Trowa was doing the same, and then he slid lower, crouching down on his knees, and his hands were delving between Duo’s ass cheeks to stroke across the entrance hidden there, and Duo’s knees nearly gave out.  

 

_ Oh fuck _ .

 

He braced himself on Trowa’s shoulders while the other man stroked him a few more times, until he was shivery and shuddering, and then continued down the back of his thighs and knees, to his feet, and back up, until his soapy hands were gently fondling Duo’s balls and Duo might come  _ right now _ if he didn’t stop-

 

Duo reached down and grasped Trowa’s wrist, putting a stop to the tortuous motion of his hand and tugged the other man back up to kiss him again.

 

“Shampoo?” he asked when they broke apart for air, and Trowa’s lips twitched as he handed Duo the bottle off the shelf, stepping back to give him some room.

 

His hair was already soaked and rinsed, because he’d been standing mostly under the spray, but Duo knew if he didn’t wash the dirt out of his hair it was just going to keep dripping down his back, getting him dirty.  He dumped a generous amount into his palm and passed the bottle back to Trowa, and then they shuffled so that the other man could get under the spray and wet and lather his own hair.

 

Duo had never washed his hair so fast, quickly unravelling the tangled mess to scrub it with shampoo, and then they switched off again, Duo leaning his head back to rinse the soap out-

 

Only to have his cock engulfed in unexpected suction as Trowa swallowed him whole.

 

“Jesus  _ fuck _ ,” he gasped out, blinking water from his eyes and bracing himself against the wall.

 

Trowa was on his knees in front of him again, Duo’s erection in his mouth and it was every fantasy Duo had ever had about the other man come to life and he was going to last approximately five seconds but he couldn’t look away.

 

He reached out, tentatively, to thread his fingers through Trowa’s wet hair, to push it back off of his face, and Duo could see the glint of his eyes under his lashes as his head bobbed. Pleasure was coiling in his gut, spiraling tighter and tighter as Trowa’s mouth moved over him, hot and tight.

 

Duo squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was embedded permanently in his brain, and Trowa was still sucking him down.

 

“Tro-” Duo hissed out a breath as the other man did something particularly clever with his tongue.  “Trowa,” he tried again, “I’m going to come.” He pushed at Trowa’s shoulder in warning.

 

The man at his feet made an ‘mmm-hmm’ noise that vibrated its way through Duo’s cock and into his gut, sending a sharp surge of pleasure with it, and Duo was barely able to gasp out a breath and then he was coming, his fist clenched against the wall and his hips jerking involuntarily as his world narrowed to the exquisite pleasure between his legs.

 

When Duo opened his eyes, Trowa was standing with him again, arm around Duo’s waist to support him as he gasped for air and his toes tingled.  Once he’d caught his breath, Trowa leaned down and kissed him, and Duo could taste himself on Trowa’s tongue and that made him moan again, and then the other man was backing him against the cool, tiled wall, pressing against him, rocking his hips and Duo reached between them to grasp his cock, hot and hard and leaking.  Trowa rocked up into his grip and Duo squeezed and tugged as Trowa shuddered and groaned and then he came all over both of them.

 

Duo’s erection was already making a half-hearted attempt to rejoin the party, even while he and Trowa leaned against the shower wall in the rapidly-cooling water, trying to remember to breathe.

 

After a moment, Trowa reached out to turn the water off before it got icy.

 

“So,” Duo ventured, after a moment, “Maria said we’re done for the night, right?”

 

Trowa’s chest vibrated with laughter.  “Bed?” he asked, leaning back to look down into Duo’s face.

 

“Bed,” Duo answered, with a grin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A very large thank you to ChronicWhimsy for the beta reading!!! All mistakes are still my own!


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